Forgotten Secrets (6 page)

“AD affects everyone differently, but we haven’t been able to dig out much understandable information. That could change if she has a good day, but we can’t count on it.”

Riley let out a long sigh. “I’m so sorry. I met your grandmother when I was here. I couldn’t tell.”

“She hid the memory loss well, but she’s worse now. She lives in the past half the time.”

“I still want to talk to her,” Riley said. “The smallest insight could help.” She strode around the room. “Any hits on the fingerprints?”

“So far nothing, but I don’t expect much. The place was full of patients.”

“And the blood?”

“The smears on the wall are Gram’s. On the floor . . .” Thayne clenched his jaw, reining in the compulsion to punch his fist through something—preferably the kidnapper’s face. “We think that blood is Cheyenne’s.”

As far as crime scenes went, Riley had seen much worse. Oh, Cheyenne hadn’t gone down easily, but the mess in the reception area of her clinic wasn’t about destruction, it was about purpose.

Thayne knelt beside the bloodstains on the floor; his eyes were deadly focused, his stance lethal. If those kidnappers could have seen the man in front of her, they’d have left Cheyenne Blackwood exactly where she was.

“I don’t want to start in here,” she said. “Which room will tell me the most about Cheyenne and who she is?”

“The lobby is where they kidnapped her, where they hurt my grandmother,” Thayne’s voice bit out.

His frustration tugged at Riley’s heart. He might be a deputy, but he was family to the victim. “I’ll study the crime scene from every angle,” she said, “but it’s just as important that I study your sister. They chose her for a reason. I need to see her, feel her, before I can find her. It’s how I work. You have to trust me, Thayne.”

After a moment’s hesitation, he gave her a sharp nod. “Cheyenne keeps this place professional. Except her personal office at the back of the building.” He led her down a hall and through a walnut door.

Riley stopped just inside the entrance and let her gaze travel around the room. She breathed in deeply, lowering herself into the well that was Cheyenne Blackwood.

Neat, efficient, orderly. The doctor’s priorities were clearly visible. The desk was a hand-me-down, probably used by the last physician and maybe even his predecessor, as was the rest of the furniture. Strangely enough, her medical degree hung in a small nondescript corner of the room, almost as an afterthought.

Thayne’s sister cared about people, not things, not accomplishments. Not status.

Family photos littered the wall. Not portraits, but candid shots framed with care—and love.

“She’s the mad photographer of the family. She’s got enough blackmail material to own this town.”

The affection in Thayne’s voice was clear. So was the worry.

Riley crossed the thick carpet, her gaze searching inside the images of the relationships that had created Cheyenne Blackwood. One particular photo caught her attention. Thayne cut an impressive figure in his Navy dress whites, strong, disciplined, but with a glint of mischief in his eye and a slight smile tugging at his mouth. Riley’s heart flipped once in her chest. She could imagine the hint of laughter beneath the timbre of his voice. She’d heard it enough.

Cheyenne had captured Thayne’s personality in that one shot. She knew her brother well. Riley paused at a picture of Sheriff Carson Blackwood taken about a decade ago in his uniform, hugging a woman Riley assumed was Thayne’s mother.

The room might not be purely professional, but Cheyenne didn’t care.

She loved her family. She wasn’t afraid to show how much.

A large floor-to-ceiling corkboard took up half the wall, littered with drawings from young patients. A few were colored blue with tears, but many more contained rainbow bright colors that jumped off the page.

With each minute, each small detail, the connection to Cheyenne became more and more real. Riley could just hear Tom now.

“You’re getting too emotional again. Don’t get involved.”

Shut up, Tom.

She couldn’t stop herself. She was already involved, notwithstanding her relationship with Thayne. Getting personal was how she accomplished her profiles; she had to build a tether between her mind, her emotions, and the victim.

No matter the price.

Riley slid a sidelong glance to Thayne. Cheyenne was very much loved. He would fight for his sister. With each second that passed, the line of his mouth tightened, but he stood silent, allowing Riley the time she needed. He didn’t press. Most men of action like Thayne would be on her, asking questions, pushing hard. Somehow, he’d harnessed the discipline to wait. He really was something special.

“I can tell I’ll like your sister,” she said finally.

“I like her, too. And I want her back alive.”

“I know, Thayne. Let me look at the . . .” Riley paused as an out-of-place photo called out to her. She tilted her head. The only image with no people. Just a few aspens and pines, a looming peak in the background, a pool of water. And a shadow. Odd.

“What is it?” Thayne asked.

“Where was this picture taken? Can you tell?”

“Oh yeah. The border between our ranch and the Riverton property. We used to play
Mountain Men of the West
and battle it out with the Riverton brothers. A feud with a family tradition.”

“Singing River’s own Hatfields and McCoys? That’s a story you never told me.”

He shrugged. “I haven’t thought about it in years. Our families don’t get along. Bad blood going way back and family loyalty make for a fierce rivalry.”

“Cheyenne was in the middle of it? Was she the damsel in distress? The one who got kidnapped.”

“Hell no. She’s the one who drew up the attack plans.”

Riley chuckled at the image of Cheyenne organizing Thayne and her other brothers, but his description didn’t explain the photo. She’d have to let the disconnect simmer. “I’m done here.”

After one last look around Cheyenne’s private office, Riley walked down the hall. Would she see something, anything to help find Cheyenne?

Her heart wrapped in an oppressive darkness, a panic.

Please let us find her.

She opened one exam room. Untouched. Then a second, and finally the storage room containing supplies and medications.

Strange. In a high-risk robbery, she would have expected complete chaos, and yet, most items remained untouched, with only a few areas on the shelves empty.

She glanced down at the floor. “The kidnappers came after the supplies first,” she mused, the reenactment playing like an out-of-focus movie in her head. “They used a garbage bag—”

“How can you know that?” Thayne interrupted.

“Because when they removed the bag from the box, several others tumbled out on the floor. The rest of this place is pristine. Your sister keeps her supplies orderly and well labeled. She would’ve folded the garbage bags and returned them to the box.”

“Cheyenne’s a neat freak for sure. Always has been.” Thayne let out a low whistle. “You deduced all that from her office and this room?”

“That’s my job,” Riley said, moving about the small room, snapping more photos. Normally she’d have stopped to sketch as well, but the scene had already been compromised. She’d take the time later if she needed to. “Your forensic team is running the prints and trace evidence?”

“That would be our forensic expert of one. Deputy Pendergrass. And yeah, he sent off DNA samples and as much as he could find.”

“Whoever broke in seems to have thrown in a mishmash of supplies.” Riley moved to an empty pocket on the shelf, then to the next. “From first-aid to surgical. The medication storage area is different. They tore off the cabinet door and even the door to the refrigerated unit, but they didn’t clean it out. I wonder . . .” She tilted her head, studying the shelf labels. “How often did she inventory?”

“Every Saturday after her half-day clinic, she updates the computer.”

“What about her nurse or office assistant? I need to interview anyone who worked with her. They might be able to tell at a glance how much is missing.”

Thayne shook his head. “She’s been on her own since Doc Mallard’s nurse retired to Casper last month to move in with her daughter. Medical professionals are hard to come by here.”

“That’ll make it tougher. She’s dispensed a week’s worth of meds.” Riley peered at shelf after shelf, studying the orderly sections of missing drugs as well as the entire shelves left untouched. “They took pain pills for certain. Oxycodone, hydrocodone.” She glanced over at Thayne. “They knew what they wanted. Which is the trend for break-ins at pharmacies. Thieves used to take everything. Now they tend to be more discriminating when they steal.”

Riley bit her lip. Something felt off, but she couldn’t quite wrap her mind around it yet.

“How does this help us find her?” Thayne asked.

“Whoever searched the supplies was sloppy—or nervous. More items tipped over, a bit more random. Whoever searched the drugs, they were organized, precise. At least two distinct personalities,” Riley said. “They didn’t try to keep quiet. Your sister heard them.”

“She left the office long enough for them to come in unnoticed,” Thayne said. “She walked across the street. Pops and Gram had gone into the general store to pick up her prescription. According to the schedule, Cheyenne’s last appointment of the day canceled.”

“I’ll need that name,” Riley said as she walked into the waiting room, recording the scene and view outside with photos from every angle. She opened the outside door. “No bell to alert the kidnappers. So, your grandmother and sister came back to the office, probably to close up.”

“She called me. A few seconds later, she screamed.”

Thayne’s voice was devoid of any emotion, almost clinical. Riley wished she could stay so calm, but it wasn’t part of her process. She needed to feel. Her heart raced, like she imagined Cheyenne’s had. “Something alerted the intruders. Your sister’s voice, your grandmother, something. Maybe they’d finished stealing what they wanted and were on their way out.”

Riley squatted on one side of the room, scenario after scenario playing in her mind. They didn’t fit. “Doesn’t make sense,” she murmured. “If they didn’t want to be identified, why not kill your grandmother? It was either risky or stupid. Inexperienced.” Riley studied the chaos. “It feels like a first-time crime scene. And yet they had a specific intent.” She didn’t mention that inexperienced perpetrators overreacted easily, and when that happened, victims tended to die. “It was planned. And confused. Someone pulling their strings maybe?”

“A drug dealer? Maybe Cheyenne interrupted them and they panicked.”

“If they’d just been after the drugs, they wouldn’t have hit the supplies. They would have left your sister here or killed her.” Riley winced at the blunt words. For a moment she’d lost herself in the scenarios. She hadn’t thought . . . She cast a quick glance over at Thayne, but except for the muscle in his jaw tensing, he showed no reaction. She had to remember he wasn’t Tom. She couldn’t simply talk through the issues. He was the brother of the victim as well as a local law enforcement officer. A LEO. She’d have to hold her tongue. “They wanted her, and they planned it for the end of the day. If your grandmother hadn’t been here, if your sister hadn’t been on the phone with you, who would have known? And when?”

Thayne rubbed the base of his neck. “When her Saturday clinic opened and she didn’t show.”

Riley surveyed the room. She chewed on the inside of her lip to stop the flow of impressions from escaping her lips. She didn’t know how long the room remained silent until Thayne’s hands settled on her shoulders, forcing her to face him and meet his gaze. His eyes flashed with frustration. “What are you doing, Riley? You’ve told me you talk it out when you go through a scene. Why so quiet now?”

Squirming under his questioning, she sighed. “Your family was attacked here. You don’t need—”

“I need to hear everything,” Thayne said through tight lips. “Wouldn’t you want to?”

She couldn’t argue with his words. She sucked in a deep breath. Her emotions were treading on paper-thin ice, but she’d want to know every detail, no matter what. “There are several types of blood patterns in the room.” She stood with a clear view of the left half of the room. “Cheyenne placed herself between the thieves and your grandmother. She fought hard, probably harder than if she’d been alone, but they shoved her against the edge of the desk. Her head hit here, given the amount of blood pooled beneath the edge. She stumbled against the chair and fell to the floor, hence the smears and partial palm print. She probably lost consciousness.”

Thayne’s body stilled. His fists clenched with the effort to maintain control. “They took
her
,” he said through gritted teeth. “Not Gram.”

“Your grandmother was an interruption.” Riley snapped off her gloves. “I need a report on the forensics, and I want to review Cheyenne’s appointment book and medical files for the last month. Whoever put together this operation did some recon before today.”

He nodded. “You’ll have it.”

Thayne paused, hesitating.